It is not by its fruit that we know a city, but by its reflections, for the harvest of civic gathering is too plentiful in its panoply, but the highest thoughts and best lights are the seeds cities sow and only these matter. The luminous denotation of reflection has long been the metaphor of the import of cities. From the first, they have stood against the darkness of wilderness, and from its elevations shimmering temples and lighthouses have marked their them as oases against opaque chaos. All cities are the ville lumiere—behold how satellite photos link the tungsten wounds and veins of a world at night with the fields polis has plowed. Reflection also denotes the capacity to know oneself, to ponder the inner agora and labyrinth of the self, an activity which becomes extolled in human life precisely upon the invention of urbanity. In this way, reflection joins the male and female principles—the walls of the city wombing its myriad cluster of citizens who thereby impose the virility of order and law upon the natural world, and this in turn permits the emergence of complex culture, art, religion, and philosophy, to kindle the hand mirror into the hearth of self knowledge.